A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Fitton
by Theta8
Summary: Let's Create Cabin Pressure, September Prompt. On a day off, Carolyn, Martin, Douglas, and Arthur all have separate adventures be they good, bad, or ugly. They reunite for a normal day of standby at Fitton airfield.. Not a full crossover but a little nod to The Six Napoleons. The song is, "My Airplane" by The Royal Guardsmen


Martin's day began with a delivery job. He drove to Leadworth that morning, eager to get back to Fitton by noon. They would be on standby until 10 that night. His client Mr. Hainsworth had several boxes of collectibles to move. He arrived at the house with plenty of time to spare and started carrying boxes to the third floor. If he finished in half an hour, he could stop by his loft to change and grab a snack, instead of going straight to the airfield.

Carolyn and Arthur started the day as usual. Carolyn took a bath and spent most of the morning making herself look professional. Arthur made coffee and breakfast, ironed his shirt, brushed his teeth and walked the dog. He always woke up very early and full of energy. This morning though, he was distracted by a particularly good mystery novel.

Douglas' morning began at half past ten, in someone else's bed. He gave her a kiss, though trying not to wake her. He left a note on the fridge before rushing out.

When they arrived at the airfield Carolyn got busy right away while Arthur leaned on the car, still absorbed by his novel. Carolyn grabbed a box from the back seat, not bothering to pull Arthur from his trance and nudged the door shut with her hip. Arthur let out a shriek like a trodden on cat; finally dropping his book to free his other hand from the car door.

"Oh dear Lord, are you alright, Arthur?" Carolyn dropped the box to attend to his swelling hand. He suppressed a whimper.

"Can you move your finger?" when he tried, pain shot all the way up his arm and tears welled in his eyes. He drew a sharp breath and shook his head.

"I think it's probably broken, I'm sorry Arthur. Hop in the car while I get some ice." Carolyn rushed off and Arthur recovered the dropped book before taking the passenger seat.

The sun blinked through the trees as Douglas sped down the winding back road. He was very late considering he'd only gotten changed an hour before he was supposed to be on standby. Now he let his mind wander. Maybe a little too far. Something thudded against the front of his Lexus bringing him to sharp and sudden stop. He just sat for a few seconds processing what was happening before jumping out of the car to find a golden retriever lying on the pavement, bleeding. It didn't look like it was breathing. Douglas was at a loss for what do when the dog gave a small whine. He knelt close beside it, wondering if he'd do more harm than good by moving it. The dog lifted its head toward him slightly and gave a pitiful look. Without another thought he slipped one arm under the shoulders and one under the hips which he felt were wet and sticky with blood. He gently laid the retriever in the back of his Lexus, rather aware of the fact it was bleeding on the seat. He shirked his jacket and slipped it tenderly under the dog's hips. "Its alright, pup, it's alright." He stroked its head as he whispered, seeing something in it's eyes that begged for a soothing voice and a gentle touch.

He drove back into town, incredibly late by now, and looked everywhere for a veterinarian. When he finally found one he rushed inside with the retriever wrapped in his uniform. "I hit it with my car." he explained frantically to the wide eyed nurse at the front desk. She called for an assistant and they took the dog back leaving Douglas to stand in the waiting room, worrying. When the nurse in flowery scrubs finally reappeared he interrogated her.

"We don't know yet sir, it could be quite a while. Is she your dog?" he shook his head and combed a restless hand through his hair. "She doesn't have any tags, and if she's not radio chipped, she'll end up in a shelter. She responded to his agitation with an inquiry of her own, "You have to be somewhere soon, but you're still worried about her aren't you?" He was a bit disarmed by the nurse's insight.

"No- well, I mean, just a little...I have to-" he stuttered, still shocked by the experience. The nurse in flowery scrubs understood.

"How about you give us your mobile number and we'll let you know how things turn out." she offered him a pen and the front of a newspaper.

"Sure, of course. He jotted down his name and number and headed for the door hastily, but stopped just a moment to thank the nurse in the flowery scrubs, who smiled reassuringly as he left.

Martin arrived to an empty port-a-cabin. "Odd, I'm not early." He dismissed it in favor of using the office phone there to sort out a little mishap he encountered during his moving job.

After a trip to A&E, a dose of oxycodone, and 2 splinted fingers, Carolyn and Arthur returned to the port-a-cabin to find Martin finishing up a phone conversation with a lock smith.

"What was that all about?" Carolyn demanded.

"Oh, wait till you hear this, you'll never believe what happened to me this morning." Martin began his story. Carolyn's interest dropped, and she started a pot of coffee, but Arthur took a seat across the table to listen intently. Martin caught sight of his bandaged hand. "Hold on, what happened to you Arthur?" He looked at his own hand as if it were new to him, and giggled a bit.

"Oh, this. He he. Mum shut my hand in the car door and broke my fingers. Ho-many?" He strung his words together as he whipped his head around comically to ask his mother.

"Just two. Why don't you go on with your story, Martin before he goes on another drug induced rant." Carolyn encouraged. Martin guessed Arthur and painkillers were an exasperating combination.

"Well, I'd just unlocked the flat and come down for the first boxes, when I saw these two men in the back of my van. One of them, the short one, hopped out and started apologising, 'oh so sorry mate, you see we're detectives' while the tall one kept just kept rifling through the boxes. So I tell him 'I don't care if you're the bloody royal navy," here Martin jabbed the air with his finger, acting much more confident than he was at the time, "You can't just break into someone's van,' and before he could explained himself, the other one, tall bloke in this big black coat holds up a little plaster bust, says its a cheap trinket and Mr. Hainsworth won't miss it at all; hands me a fiver and smashes the thing!" Arthur was wide eyed and wide mouthed at this point. "Wha'd you do, Skip?" he pleaded for more.

"Well he just kicked through the broken pieces a bit and then he ran off, his friend apologised again and chased after him like nothing happened." Martin stopped to recollect. "The whole thing was just... bizarre."

"What did Mr. Hainsworth have to say?" Carolyn probed, wondering if her pilot had gotten into trouble. She took a seat on the couch at the other side of the office and sipped her coffee.

"He was actually fine with it when I told him the whole story, but he wouldn't take the five pounds." Martin said.

"Only you would miss the point of hush money." Carolyn chided with an eye roll.

"Who's taking hush money?" Douglas rode in smoothly on the coattails of Carolyn's comment.

"Hi Douglas!" Arthur jumped out of his seat and promptly returned to it due to his drugged state. "Some detectives broke into Martin's van!"

"Really? Sounds like an adventure." Douglas skipped the witty remarks going straight for the pot of fresh coffee. Martin's pride still took a boost, "Well, it was sort of exci-" Carolyn interrupted his gloating.

"Douglas, what's on your shirt?" her tone was concerned rather than critical.

"Oh, it's nothing." he buttoned his jacket but Carolyn still spied a dark stain drying on the navy blue fabric.

"It's not nothing Douglas and if I'm right, which I usually am, it deserves quite an explanation." she pressed.

"Really, it's nothing." he insisted. "I just had a little accident on the way in and didn't have time to change. It's fine. Just a little water and you won't notice it at all." Carolyn didn't believe him and simply glared in response "Look, it's not like I can leave now and wash it, the client's sure to show up once we're short a pilot." He grew irritable in his continued defense. Carolyn retorted with drowning levels of authority, "If by little accident I certainly hope you mean 'the ketchup bottle exploded over my eggs and just happens to look exactly like blood' because I know what what blood on fabric looks like Douglas so for goodness sake come clean with it."

"I hit a dog with my car." he let his confession drop in the silent echo's of Carolyn's demand and adopted a defensive posture. Drug addled Arthur was the first to speak up.

"What?! Wai- how- did- is-" he stuttered in horror. Douglas finally had to lay a hand on his shoulder to calm him down as Carolyn and Martin starred and waited for an explanation.

"I took it to a vet and they're going to let me know how it goes." Arthur still wore a desperate and pleading expression, "I'm sure it'll be fine, Arthur." he managed to console him a little with a lie. Douglas took his hand away. "I was late, I wasn't paying attention..." he confessed to no one in particular.

"But are you alright, Douglas?" Martin asked tenderly as a friend and a professional.

"Yes, I'm fine. Guess I was sort of lucky that's all that happened. Could have been a lot worse I suppose."

_I can go for miles in my airplane, have a lot of smiles in my airplane..._

Douglas blushed and hurriedly answered, already too late to save his pride. Arthur wished the song would have continued, Martin raised a questioning eyebrow, Carolyn suppressed a chuckle.

"Yes?"

"Really? Oh. That, that's wonderful." He stumbled over his words as relief brimmed up all over him. "Um, sure, if that's alright."

"I can?"

"This evening?" his excitement grew before their eyes.

"Do I need to bring anything?" he motioned for a pen and paper, Martin was closest and watched him scribble down a short list. He smiled when he realized what the phone call was about.

"Alright, I will. Thank you again, thank you so much." he nearly cracked with gratitude and exhilaration. Three pairs of eyes stared him down for the story.

"Oh, so sorry, the dog didn't make it," he lamely joked in contrast to the obvious. Arthur, still swimming in oxycodone did not catch the obvious and nearly cried. Carolyn and Martin snapped at Douglas simultaneously. "She's fine Arthur, she's fine." he held Arthur by the shoulders and met his eye apologetically. "The dog will be fine. Just a few broken bones and some stitches. They say she'll be back to normal in a few weeks. And," Ever the dramatist he paused for effect, "I get to take her home."


End file.
